1
We have every expectation that tomorrow will arrive;
We awake in the morning having the long night survived.
This could have been a day rudely taken away,
A day for us no longer allowed on earth to stay,
To romp through the flower garden like puppies at play.
2
I am ready to give tomorrow one last chance,
One last time to make amends for every happenstance.
I am going to listen to my inner voice,
Think carefully my options before making any choice,
With no cause for regret and every reason to rejoice.
3
Who is ready to accept that tomorrow may never come?
It is a thought we cannot accept and instinctively shun
We quietly lay down at night to dream and slumber,
Tomorrow has been promised; we were given a number,
Thus we surrender our soul for the night, feeling humbler.
4
French culture refers to sleep as “the little death”.
We take leave of our senses and seemingly hold our breath.
The whole night goes by as though it has passed in a second
And nothing has happened that needs to be reckoned.
Sweet dreams make sleep feel like we are seductively beckoned.
5
Upon awakening, how happy we feel to be still alive;
We have been given another day to flourish and thrive.
We can work and play and even find time to pray,
Thanking God for giving us one more glorious day,
The threat of death nothing more than idle fear and hearsay.
6
Tomorrow is a gift, but it seems like something borrowed,
We uphold it as a hope; but there is a lingering sorrow.
The entire world will wake up; but we may not be part of the morrow.
The day will arrive when we have to return this precious gift;
We will embark upon a raft that will be set hence forth adrift.
7
Then tomorrow will be no more real than yesterday,
The interaction of day and night will no longer be at play,
Time itself will be enveloped into an eternal May.
The snows of winter will melt into a virginal Spring;
As the waters of humanity flow into the ocean of the Sun King.
I think that people begin to have these thoughts after they've lived a long time and begin to have infirmities like sleep apnea or heart pain which seems to remind them that they are mortal.
Having faced death closely once or twice, I don't contemplate going to sleep with death at all. I always think of going to bed as an urgent need to rest from the physical strain of my day and recharge my brain, sometimes with wonderful dreams and/or nightmares, depending upon what happened during the day that affects my inner concerns or not.
I look at tomorrow to be routine unless I've planned something that excites or worries me. Instead, I've always got plans for the next novel or trip or event, sometimes a year off that I don't contemplate dying before. But I'm not going stupid into the great beyond. I have set aside a well written will that I update if necessary, a non-resuscitate order, power of attorney, an organ donation order, and detailed instructions to my executor to handle my affairs and make sure that I'm not occupying good real estate but cremated after organ donation.
Thereby, I rest easy every evening, anticipating nothing but sleep. Perchance to dream. Perchance to die. Without worrying about it.
Tomorrow "is," until it "isn't." Nice work with your rhyming. Guess you are thinking of the raft as the boat Charon uses to transport the newly dead across the Acheron River to Hell . . . Just guessing . . .
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Having faced death closely once or twice, I don't contemplate going to sleep with death at all. I always think of going to bed as an urgent need to rest from the physical strain of my day and recharge my brain, sometimes with wonderful dreams and/or nightmares, depending upon what happened during the day that affects my inner concerns or not.
I look at tomorrow to be routine unless I've planned something that excites or worries me. Instead, I've always got plans for the next novel or trip or event, sometimes a year off that I don't contemplate dying before. But I'm not going stupid into the great beyond. I have set aside a well written will that I update if necessary, a non-resuscitate order, power of attorney, an organ donation order, and detailed instructions to my executor to handle my affairs and make sure that I'm not occupying good real estate but cremated after organ donation.
Thereby, I rest easy every evening, anticipating nothing but sleep. Perchance to dream. Perchance to die. Without worrying about it.
Ron